


Or preferably, a concussion

by kimabutch (CWoodP)



Series: Discord prompts [1]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Trust, drunk talks, one word prompt, quarantine mention, spoilers for RQG 157
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24513973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWoodP/pseuds/kimabutch
Summary: While traveling by airship to Svalbard, Carter comes to Zolf's room with some drinks.
Relationships: Zolf Smith & Howard Carter
Series: Discord prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792141
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Or preferably, a concussion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConcentratedMatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConcentratedMatter/gifts).



> Babs and I gave each other two characters & one word to write about for 30 minutes. My prompt was "Carter & Zolf - trust," and this is the result. Written in 35 minutes, with minor edits later. 
> 
> The title is from "I Will Light You On Fire" by Golden Shoulders: _"And you know this requires discussion/ Or preferably, a concussion/ Why can't we talk about something good?"_

Zolf’s forgotten how much he fucking hates Earhart’s airship. It’s not just the dizzying sights from its deck that get to him, but the constantly sickening swaying in the lower cabins, somehow so different from the rocking of a proper boat even in the wildest winds. And the fact that every room reminds him of Sasha’s bloody scars and his promise to stay, or his red-hot fury at Bertie at Campbell’s near death — 

Well, maybe that’s why he’s retreated to his room with a Campbell book and a dark look to Azu when she caught his gaze, eyes full of concern. Maybe he wants to be alone.

And he succeeds for an hour or two before there’s a hesitant knock at the door. Zolf sighs and, not bothering to get up, mumbles a “come in.” He’s sure that it’s Azu or Hamid trying to make sure he’s okay, but when the door opens it’s Carter standing there, a bottle in each hand.

“Thought you might want a drink,” Carter says before Zolf can speak. “You didn’t seem too happy to be onboard.”

“Found Earhart’s stash, eh?” Zolf says, making a point of looking back down at his book. “Look, nice of you to offer, but not right now.” 

“I’ll have you know that this is from my _own_ stash, liberated from a _variety_ of people,” Carter says defensively. 

Zolf stays silent, pretending to read, offering a silent prayer to he-doesn’t-care-who that Carter will just take his sign and go away. 

“Please?” Carter says after a moment, in a sincere voice that shocks Zolf. 

Zolf sighs again. “Fine,” he says, still not getting up from his position on his chair. 

“Rum or beer?” Carter says, bounding in immediately. Zolf silently gestures for the beer, which Carter hands to him before pulling up a stool to sit across from him and starting on the rum. They drink in silence for a couple minutes, Zolf glancing anywhere around but straight in front of him — if Carter wants a conversation, he’ll have to be the one to start it. 

Finally, Carter, after a large swig of rum, starts: “I’m sorry for breaking quarantine.”

“What?” 

“When we were in quarantine. The kobolds came and I tried to leave. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Carter says, looking more embarrassed than Zolf’s ever seen him. 

“O… kay,” Zolf says slowly. “Thanks? Hadn’t really thought about that much, if I’m being honest. Kinda was — thinking of other stuff.”

Carter looks slightly relieved, but not finished yet. “I just want you to know you can trust me. Because” — his voice falls into a rhythmic pattern, as if he’s repeating a lesson by rote, “we all need to trust each other on this team.”

Ah. 

“Azu put you up to this, then?” Zolf says, taking a long swig of the beer. Damnit. He should’ve never told her she could help, if she wants to get Carter involved. She doesn’t even _like_ Carter. 

“No!” Carter says immediately, his usual wheedling voice returning. “Well — she’s _very_ strong, and sometimes she puts her feet in my mouth, and maybe she _did_ say I should put my alcohol to better use, but —”

“Tell her it’s alright. I trust everyone as much as I need. That’s not — it’s not the problem.”

“Okay, fine, she did tell me to,” Carter says, “but — I did want to say sorry. Really. I know none of you trust me, and that’s _okay_ , I haven’t really ever needed trust, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to stab you in the back. Or do something really stupid.”

Zolf huffs, looking down at his feet. Wonders how much rum Carter had before coming to his room, that he even cares what Zolf thinks. 

“Look,” Zolf says finally. “I’m not mad at you. Didn’t really expect you to be different. But I’m — okay, right, so, the last time I was on this airship, my employee tried to kill someone I cared about, alright?” _And I completely lost it and tried to kill him_ , Zolf adds silently to himself. “And maybe I don’t — I dunno, trust you completely, but, like, I don’t think you’ll do _that_ , either. And… that’s a start, I guess? If you actually want my trust.” 

Carter’s face perks up. “Well, that’s much better than anyone else on this ship. Cheers,” Carter says, clinking their bottles before Zolf can stop him. “I’ll drink to that.”


End file.
